


Louvre

by 4ce_in_sp4ce



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28836537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ce_in_sp4ce/pseuds/4ce_in_sp4ce
Summary: As much as he hated being this tired, Arthur loved days like this. Days where they both stayed in, neither getting dressed, drinking coffee and sitting on the couch together, absorbed in their own tasks. Domesticity had never been something he'd cared for much, but it was different with Eames. It always had been.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Louvre

**Author's Note:**

> 'Cause we're the greatest, they'll hang us in the Louvre. Down the back, but who cares, still the Louvre. -Lorde

Eames was already up and around by the time Arthur stumbled out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, still barely awake. Not that he was surprised, it _was_ almost 11, but it was still a bit of an odd feeling to find someone in the rest of the apartment already. Eames looked up from his notebook, grinning. “You’re looking delightful, darling.”

Arthur grumbled something that he supposed he meant to be words, but just came out as an annoyed grunt instead. Post-job sleep debts were the worst. He was almost always useless for at least two to three days after every job as he struggled to catch up on all the sleep he had most definitely _not_ gotten while working. Every time they finished a job Arthur would promise himself that he’d try to get more sleep on the next one, that he wouldn’t end the next one like this, and every time he failed. This one was hitting him particularly hard though. He was pretty sure he'd slept for almost 13 hours straight, and he _still_ felt exhausted. Thankfully there was a full pot of coffee on the counter and Arthur poured himself a cup before sitting down on the couch. He couldn’t tell if Eames had made it because he’d wanted coffee too or if he’d made it because he’d known _Arthur_ would need it, but he didn’t particularly care. Either way he was just grateful for a little caffeine. 

The world slowly started to come more into focus as he got about halfway through his mug. It was a nice morning- well, _late_ morning- and the apartment was full of warm sunlight. Eames had clearly already been up for some time and was sitting in the chair by the window with a sketchbook. He looked back over at Arthur with a smile. "Slowly coming back online, I see."

"Hmm." Arthur took a sip of coffee. "Getting there."

Eames chuckled, turning back to whatever he was drawing. "You passed out last night. I think you barely even made it under the covers before you were asleep."

"I don't doubt it. Probably be similar tonight." He stretched slightly, trying to stifle a yawn, before turning his attention to Eames more fully, sighing. "Are you sketching the cafe across the street again? One of these days someone's going to notice you doing that and think you're a stalker or something."

"I think you're giving the cafe patrons a little too much credit when it comes to observation, but if it makes you feel any better, no, I'm not. I _was_ , but I decided to move on to something else." Eames frowned slightly as he sketched. "The cafe’s nice, but I wanted to try and capture something with real beauty.”

Arthur chuckled, taking another sip. He could see a line of charcoal smudged across Eames’ cheek and a bit on his forehead too, probably from where he’d tried to push his hair back. Arthur’d known that Eames had originally been a more traditional forger before getting into extraction, but as they’d gotten to know each other better he’d been surprised at how much Eames kept up with his art skills. They rarely came up on jobs, but he’d still kept them sharp over the years. Sometimes, usually on downtime between jobs, it was a dedicated drawing session in an actual sketchbook. Other times it was an absentminded sketch done on a napkin with a ballpoint pen. He rarely kept any of them, claiming they weren’t particularly good, but to Arthur they were all wonderful. “Really? And what did you find that has _real beauty_ ?”

“I’ll show you when I’m done.”

Arthur laughed quietly. It must be a sketch he liked. Eames usually had no problem with Arthur seeing his drawings while he worked on them, but if it was one he particularly liked he was always insistent on finishing it before he let Arthur see it. Claimed it would ruin the experience if he saw it before it was done. “Alright, I’ll stop asking questions then and let you finish.” He leaned back against the cushions and focused back on finishing his coffee. He had no intentions of leaving the apartment today and, if Eames’ current position was anything to go by, neither did Eames. As much as he hated being this tired, Arthur loved days like this. Days where they both stayed in, neither getting dressed, drinking coffee and sitting on the couch together, absorbed in their own tasks. Domesticity had never been something he'd cared for much, but it was different with Eames. It always had been. 

Arthur frowned as he noticed Eames glancing at him periodically, eyes flitting to him and then back to the sketchbook. He tended to do that when he was sketching, but it was usually directed at whatever he was drawing. Arthur's eyes widened and he set his cup down on the coffee table, sitting up in horror as the realization hit him. "No." Eames glanced up at him, curious. " _Please_ tell me you're not drawing me."

Eames grinned. "Well, I told you I wanted to draw something with real beauty, didn't I?"

"Eames, I'm a mess right now! I'm barely even awake!" Arthur covered his face and drew his knees up in front of him, sinking down in his seat and trying to ignore Eames' laughter. He could feel his face getting red and was somewhere between mortified and flattered. It was a combination only Eames seemed to be able to bring on, which he managed to do annoyingly often. "I thought you meant something with _actual_ beauty."

"I did." Arthur heard Eames moving and a moment later the cushions beside him dipped. "You're a work of art, darling, how could I _not_ draw you?"

Arthur looked up to glare at Eames, only to find him watching him with an adoring grin. It was hard to even pretend to be mad with Eames looking at him like that but he figured it was worth a shot anyways. "Yes, I'm sure I look like a _wonderful_ piece of art, what with my pyjamas and messy hair and dark circles under my eyes." 

"You do." Eames took Arthur's hands and gently pulled them away from his face, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "You're a masterpiece." He pressed a line of soft kisses down Arthur's jaw, pulling him in closer, and Arthur moved with him easily. "You should be hanging in the Louvre."

"Shut up." Arthur could help but laugh slightly as Eames pulled him against his chest, still blushing. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Eames."

"Really? Because right now," Eames kissed his forehead, "it's got you cuddled against me, and I'd say that's a pretty good…"

Arthur cut him off with a kiss. Eames leaned into it, bringing his hand up to cup Arthur's cheek. After a moment Arthur pulled back with a grin; at least he wasn't the only one blushing now. "Okay, maybe it'll get you _somewhere_." He disentangled himself from Eames' arms just briefly enough to grab his coffee cup from the table before nestling back against him. "But if you think I'm letting you get up to finish that drawing, you're dead fucking wrong."

Eames laughed, wrapping his arms around Arthur and settling back against the couch. "I suppose that's only fair. I got most of the way done with it already anyways." Arthur hummed happily as Eames ran his fingers through his hair. "You really are beautiful, though." He chuckled, kissing Arthur's temple lightly. "Messy hair and all."


End file.
